Page 71 of Monsters Carve Thrones

And for a moment, I nearly drifted to sleep right there on the table. But I remembered Varga’s face. The way he bit his lip when he looked at me. The glint of enjoyment in his eye.

***

The guard didn’t speak as he led me back to the bedroom. He didn’t have to. I was sore and quiet, the collar still snug around my throat. My body ached in too many places to count. The door shut behind me, and I sat on the edge of the bed,exhaling like I was trying to release something that wouldn’t leave. That was when I heard deep, muffled voices.Waylon and Varga.

I blinked hard, tuning out the sting in my wrists and the tremble in my thighs. I figured they were talking business. I didn’t care.

Until Waylon came back.

He slammed the door behind him, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet.

I flinched. He was furious.

His jaw was clenched, his coat half-buttoned, his eyes wild with something he didn’t name. He didn’t speak at first, just paced once, then turned to face me like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “You’re to meet Varga,” he said sharply. “Guest bedroom. Down the hall.”

My stomach twisted. I stood slowly, confused. “What… what do you mean?”

“You know bloody well what I mean.”

I stared at him, horror crawling up my spine. “You’re letting him fuck me?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just dragged a hand down his face and looked away like it physically hurt to say it. “I owe him,” he muttered. “And he asked. Just once.”

My lips parted. “Waylon–”

“You’re payment.” His voice cracked like a whip. “Tonight. Just once. That’s all.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Why would you–?”

“Don’t argue, baby,” he snapped, turning away like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “Just go. I…” he trailed off, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry.”

I stared at him, really stared. His fists were clenched. His entire body was taut with fury.

Jealousy.

The man who had stripped me of my power and freedom was now raging at the idea of someone else touching me, even if he was the one who allowed it. I stepped forward slowly. And then past him. Waylon didn’t stop me. He couldn’t.

My bare feet carried me down the hall, heart pounding so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. I stopped at the door to the guest bedroom, and opened it.

Varga stood at the foot of the bed, shirtless, a glass of amber liquor in his hand. That fucking grin already spread across his face. “A well-behaved girl,” he murmured, his eyes raking over me like I was something to unwrap. “Come here.”

And as I stepped inside, hatred bloomed in my chest like wildfire. The guest room smelled like cigars and aftershave. Dim lighting cast shadows across the floor, elongating everything, especially him.

He stood barefoot, wearing only black slacks that hugged his lean, muscular frame. His salt and pepper hair was still tied back in a messy bun, stray strands brushing the edges of his dark, sun-worn face. His eyes were black and hollow, like they’d long since stopped holding anything human. And yet… he smiled.

That grin could make your stomach turn. He sipped his drink leisurely, the ice clinking in the glass. “You’re even prettier when I know I’m about to ravage you,” he murmured, cocking his head. “Waylon said you were too much to tame. But I don’t think that’s true.”

I stayed rooted by the door, refusing to flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Then you’re more foolish than I thought,” I said evenly.

That made him laugh. A deep, rich sound that felt like oil spilling across velvet. “Good. Bite back. I like themalive,” he said, stepping forward with quiet menace. “Too many girls come in already broken.”

My nails dug into my palms. “And I imagine you take credit for finishing the job.”

“Oh, not always,” he said. “Some I just borrow. Some I train. But you… you’re something else. Especially knowing who you belonged to.” He stopped in front of me, eyes traveling slowly over every inch of my body like a butcher deciding where to cut first.

I didn’t move. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re mine for the night.” He grinned. “But I’ll tell you something honest… it won’t be nearly as bad if you don’t pretend you’re not curious.”